


Together Let's Imagine

by bronzeecho



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Derek and Stiles are Mates, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Multi, au after season 2 because i refuse to accept boyd and erica's deaths, i hope this is funny for you guys i worked hard to make you laugh, it's gonna be slow burn guise sorry, matchmaking fic, um she's imaginary though so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 01:30:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bronzeecho/pseuds/bronzeecho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Derek was 5, he had an imaginary friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When Derek was 5, he had an imaginary friend. He only ever told Laura about it, and she laughed until she turned blue and then wrestled Derek to the ground, mocking him for being such a baby.

Not long after, the imaginary friend went away. Derek only vaguely remembers her now. She had been an older kid, maybe 15 or 16 by the look of her; she had dark red - almost wine colored - long hair, dark skin, and eyes so blue they appeared almost silver. She called herself Ethel because she thought it sounded nice. Derek didn't think it fit her very much and when he pronounced it, it sounded like 'Ether' and that became his name for her. Laura just thought it was all stupid.

When Ether disappeared Derek was a mix of relieved and sad, a confusing emotion for a 5 year old. But at least it stopped his older sister picking on him.


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> whew double update hope you like

It's during a full moon run with his betas when the headaches start. The first is head-splitting, blinding, and he runs into a tree. Derek howls for the pack, thinking a hunter must be near.

The betas - and Scott - crash through the woods, growling and ready to fight. By the time they reach their alpha, the headache is gone, leaving Derek panting and wincing at the base of a tree trunk.

"What is it, Derek, what's wrong?" asks Isaac, probably the one of the pack who cares the most about Derek.

"I don't know," he admits. "Something, though." He grips at his head and groans.

Belatedly, Stiles, Lydia, and Allison arrive on the scene. Allison with her bow tensed, Lydia steeled for battle, and... Stiles is talking. Of fucking course.

"What is it? What's wrong? We got this Derek, where is it?"

"Stiles. Shut up," Derek orders. Stiles's jaw closes with a click of his teeth.

"I don't smell anything strange. Or hear anything," Boyd says, quietly. Sometimes, Boyd is Derek's favorite.

"What happened?" Stiles asks.

"We don't really know," Erica says, looking pointedly back at her alpha.

"Headache," Derek bites out.

"You went full alpha roar over a little migraine? Dude, seriously, what even? I thought we were in danger!" Stiles says.

"Shut up," Derek repeats, a little sullen now.

 

-

 

When it happens again, Derek is in his loft, trying to get a few meager hours of sleep.

The headache this time, if possible, hurts even worse. Derek sets his jaw against the tortured scream he almost lets out, but a hoarse groan still escapes. A distant voice now accompanies the pain, and it sounds like a radio being tuned too fast.

"...Derek, honestly, I -" is what he catches before it fades, the pain in his skull with it.

Derek bolts up in bed as soon as he can move again, panting heavily. He looks around wildly for whoever could have said that, half expecting them to suddenly appear out of the shadows, but his whole loft is empty. He gets out of bed, sprints to his front door and looks out. The whole hallway beyond is deserted. He goes to the window and sticks his head out but he can't hear anyone out there either.

Abruptly, he feels nauseous. He bolts to the bathroom. When he's done throwing up his whole stomach, he just lies on the floor. Before he passes out, he thinks to himself that something strange is happening.

 

-

 

The third, and last, time it happens, he is patrolling the borders of Hale territory, having taken to doing so more often in his state of paranoia.

It's been 2 weeks since the last, 5 weeks since the first. This one hurts so bad it sends him to his knees, convulsing and emitting one long agonised scream.

When it passes at last, he leans right over and throws up. When he's done with that, and his stomach no longer feels like it is trying to claw up and out his esophagus, he leans against the side of his Camaro and rubs at his head.

"Hey," a voice says from - above him?

He jumps violently, roars instinctively, and rolls to his feet to look at the intruder.

There's - there is a girl, maybe 16, sitting cross-legged on the roof of his fucking car.

That's the strangest part. The second-strangest is that his senses are unable to detect her presence. If he couldn't see her or hadn't heard her speak, he wouldn't have noticed her at all.

Clearly, she is some kind of supernatural creature and is fucking with him. Now he's on the defensive; he pops his claws, drops his fangs lets the alpha red bleed into his eyes, and drops into - what Stiles has since dubbed - his big bad scary alpha tone.

"Who are you? What are you doing in Hale territory? What do you want?" he growls, all business and all threat.

"Wow. Lots of questions there, Der-bear," she says, rolling her eyes.

"Der-bear?" he repeats. He tries to keep his tone inflectionless but it still sounds derisive.

"That _is_ your nickname, is it not, Der-bear?" she asks, as if he is a small child. Or stupid.

"No," is all he says in reply. For some reason, that makes her grin widely.

The way she smiles seems almost familiar to Derek. Like a very distant memory of his childhood with his family still around him, his pack. He blinks. This is so very the wrong time for that.

"I am the alpha of the Hale pack territory. Tell me what you're doing here," he demands.

"Oh...nothing. Just...visiting an old friend," she says. Derek has to restrain himself from growling.

"What are you?"

" _Moi_?" she says, feigning innocence, "Why, just a little girl who has missed her werewolf cub pal."

Now Derek is confused. What does that mean? Werewolf cub? There are no werewolf cubs in Beacon Hills, excluding the recently turned betas. This whole thing is throwing him for a loop - these debilitating headaches, this girl's sudden appearance, the faint but unshakeable feeling that she is familiar to Derek - and he can't even hear her heartbeat to detect whether or not she's lying. Or smell her, to sniff out what kind of being she is.

"You...you don't remember me? For real, for real? At all?" her shit-eating grin falters before dropping full stop into a frown. "Jerk. And here I was, missing you for however many years, believing you when you said I was your best friend. Whatever. See if I ever talk to you again," she harrumphs and turns her face away, expression indignant.

"What are you talking about?" Derek is abjectly bewildered now. This girl - whatever she is, and she's something - is making no sense to him in the slightest.

"I'm Ethel!" she shouts, waving her hands like that's the big reveal and he's supposed to understand it all now.

And it means absolutely nothing to Derek.

"Your name is Ethel?" he asks, dubious. She nods earnestly. "That doesn't seem like a name for a - whatever kind of creature you are," he remarks.

She rolls her eyes so hard it looks like it hurt.

"First of all, how dare you," she waves a hand. "Second, I'm not even a supernatural thing. So shut up. Second-and-a-half, you are one to freaking talk, mister alpha werewolf guy! And third, that is why you used to call me Ether. Or part of why. You were a weird kid." Ethel says all of this with one breath and Derek thinks idly that she talks enough to make even Stiles jealous.

"...Ether? What...?" _What is going on_ , he wants to say. Because he used to have an imaginary friend, when he was a cub, and he called her Ether. This...is getting strange.

"Yes! Do you remember now?" she shouts again.

"I...had an imaginary friend when I was little, called Ether," he mumbles, practically to himself.

"Well, Ethel, actually. Like I said, weird kid. Uh, hold up - imaginary? Fuck you! Ain't no imaginary up in here, I am not imaginary. Your face is imaginary, you...butt face."

"What's going on?" Derek whispers, half madly. He doesn't understand this whole situation and Derek doesn't like situations he doesn't understand.

Imaginary friends do not exist. He remembers the talk he had with his parents about it, when Laura let slip to them what Derek had told her about Ether. He was 6 at the time and Ether had already gone, but he never forgot that talk. So this cannot be happening, because imaginary friends are for children and not for adults, and they don't exist and so this is all very strange.

Derek stumbles back a little. "This is impossible. Imaginary friends aren't real," he mutters. He shuts his eyes tightly. "And this is not happening."

"You're right, imaginary friends _don't_ exist. Good thing I'm not fucking imaginary, spitwad! This is happening, Der-bear, I'm really here. I'm back." She's still there when Derek opens his eyes.

"I'm hallucinating, clearly," he swallows convulsively. He might be freaking out slightly.

"Yeah and maybe you've got a brain tumor too, and that's what's causing this. Except, wait - last I checked, those things don't happen to werewolves! This is all real, spitwad."

"Stop calling me that!" Derek growls. "Only -"

"Only Laura calls you that, I know. But she's not here anymore, Der-bear."

And Derek, well, Derek has had just about enough of this. He roars in Ethel's face and runs to the driver's side of his car. And he's only been on the road a minute when -

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," Ether - Ethel - whatever - is in the passenger seat. "Although, if you had just fuckin' kept me around just a little while longer, I could have told you that Argent bitch was no good and you shouldn't have ever spoken to her."

Derek very nearly wraps the Camaro around a tree. He hits the brake in time though. He swipes his claws at Ethel but meets no resistance where the solid skin of her neck should be. His claws sail through and tear at the fabric on the headrest.

"Honestly," Ethel groans. "Have you become stupid, Der-bear?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i sneezed this out earlier  
> so ethel's pretty cool right?  
> and um basically yeah she is his imaginary friend and a hallucination but he's not sick or anything  
> she's just sort of there  
> yeah  
> thank


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> derek is broody, stiles is wonderful, ethel is shameless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay another update this is all happening much faster than i thought it would and i am very happy about that and i have all the people who read this to thank
> 
> um fyi in the beginning of this scene derek almost has a panic attack? in case you need to know things like that

Derek sits with his head in his hands on the bed in the master bedroom of the mostly redone Hale house. He's breathing pretty heavy. He may or may not be freaking out. Argents, a kanima, an alpha pack he can face, but one hallucination of a made up girl he used to know and he's breaking down.

Is he crazy? Is he losing his mind? Is there something wrong with his wolf? These are the only potential explanations he can conjure for why his former imaginary friend has made a sudden visceral reappearance in his adulthood, where imaginary friends don't belong. The bed sinks on the far side and oh god she's still here and wow is Derek having a panic attack?  
 He thinks he might be. Is this how Stiles feels? If so he is very sorry.

"Yeah, it's probably a little weird. I don't even quite know why I'm here again. Thought I'd escaped you," she jokes. Derek groans. Or whimpers. It might be both. "Bad time for jokes? Right. I understand completely. I always was a little tactless, wasn't I?"

"Just - just. Is there any way you could give me a minute to myself? Disappear or - or go into another room? I need a minute to myself. To...adjust my worldview or something, all right?"

"I'll see what I can do, captain grumpy," she snarks. The bedroom door shuts as she departs.

Derek makes a plan to call Deaton tomorrow morning. Because sure as Peter was dead and is alive again, something is going on here and it can't be as simple as an imaginary friend. When has his life ever been that simple or innocuous? Things always come back to bite him. Just like with Kate -

"Derek?" Stiles voice echoes downstairs, cutting off Derek's self-pitying train of thought mid-sentence.

"Stiles? Why are you here?" Derek asks when he gets downstairs.

"Uh, it's Friday? We have a pack meeting, like every Friday? Not to mention that, oh yeah, the full moon's in three days time," Stiles explains in his very uniquely Stiles (spastic and ungainly) way.

Derek just stares at Stiles's oddly moving arms. "Right. Well I've been busy because I'm, you know, the alpha. It slipped my mind, okay?"

Derek probably ought to be less surprised that Ethel appears right now, talking as loudly as possible, nearly drowning out Stiles's equally sarcastic reply.

"Ooh!" she squeals. "Who is this scrumptious cupcake, Der-bear?"

He doesn't want to react to Ethel, but something must show in his expression beyond the ordinary because Stiles pauses to look at him.

"Derek are you okay?" Stiles asks simply. And Derek is still sort of struck by that - even a question that simple sounds like such a bigger statement from Stiles. Stiles always notices these things about people. He cares and pays attention and wants to help and wow maybe Derek is reading way into this but he's sort of always been this way over Stiles.

Regardless, he doesn't want Ethel to catch on to Derek's conflict and affects a heavy scowl.

"Fine," he mutters. "When will the others be here?"

Thankfully, Stiles lets it go - for now. "Uh, I don't know. It's only like 4 right now so...not for a while probably."

Derek scoffs and opens his mouth to protest.

"Yeah, yeah 'Get out of here Stiles' except I totally actually want to talk to you so shove it, Sourwolf."

Derek looks incredulously at Stiles. Apparently being alpha means nothing around here anymore. He cannot believe Stiles would talk to him like that (except he kind of can because Stiles always does things he shouldn't) and he misses when Stiles was frightened by his threats.

Ethel, somewhat predictably now, cackles. "I like him! 'Sourwolf' - I'm only disappointed I didn't come up with that first! I'm keeping him," she snorts.

He almost tells Ethel to shut up but averts it at the last second by directing it at Stiles.

"I believe I told you to shut up first, big guy," Stiles says cheekily and - what the hell? Was that flirty?

"Dang, son!" Ethel crows and Derek is horrified that he's so sure she didn't say that ironically. "This boy either has the sickest dick game ever or he is thirsty. Either way, Der-bear, get on that."

Derek chokes on an inhale and, despite himself, spins to stare at her, wide-eyed. _What the fuck_ , he mouths at her.

"Derek? What are you looking at?" Stiles asks uncertainly.

"Nothing." Derek frowns. "Thought I heard something."

"What is it? You're all eyebrows of murderous intent, gotta be something out there."

Derek frowns more. Ethel snickers into her hand. Stiles looks concerned. Derek elects to ignore the eyebrow thing.

"What is it you want to talk about?"

"Oh. Right. So I was researching werewolf migraines - because that's like, weird, you know, with the whole healing factor thing? And let me tell you, they have some very imformative forums that are pretty legit as far as I can tell. Funny story, I was talking to this one wolf who lives in Poland! But, uh - not relevant. Anyway, werewolf migraines, and I found..." Derek finally tunes out.

Stiles has been researching his migraines? Of his own free will? That is caring behavior to such a degree that Derek can't quite comprehend it. It's almost strange to Derek, to have anyone who cares about him anymore. This is - it's pack. His own pack. A little fucked up, but it's his family, isn't it? And Stiles. Fuck, Derek has no idea what to do with Stiles. He doesn't think he can ignore the things he feels much longer. But he doesn't know that he's ready for the tsunami wave force of nature that is Stiles, if he will ever be ready. Stiles is everything good and decent in the world and Derek is so fucked up, he's got his imaginary friend sitting in the corner watching for fuck's sake.

And Ethel, she looks kind of shell-shocked, like she's seeing something so obvious in front of her for the first time and - oh. Oh no, this isn't good. She's looking back and forth from Derek to Stiles who is still rambling about... fish?

This is bad news for Derek.

"Thanks, Stiles. I'll look into it," Derek says, eying Ethel warily. Stiles levels Derek with a strange look.

"Were you listening to anything I said, Derek?" he asks, tone flat.

"Yes I was. Forums, research, fish. I got it."

"Damn it Derek, no! You were supposed - you know what, fuck it. I'll just do it myself, can't trust you with anything," Stiles says mutinously.

"No, Stiles. I'll talk to Deaton about it tomorrow, okay?"

"Great, whatever."

Stiles is pouting and Derek wants to pout too, or at least brood which is more his speed. Shit, Derek always fucks up with Stiles. This really is exactly why he should just ignore his feelings for the boy because he will just do this again, except next time might be worse. He doesn't say anything to ameliorate it though. With Derek's luck he'll end up accidentally offending Stiles more. Derek can talk himself into a corner with the best of them, if given enough time. He doesn't want to end up accidentally insulting Stiles's dead mother or something.

After a minute - Ethel's shark grin slowly spreading to take up her whole face (and somehow her whole body) - Stiles just sighs and goes into the kitchen. Derek hangs his head in shame.

"Quit moping, Sourwolf," Ethel snorts.

A lot of banging noises starts up in the kitchen.

"Stiles, what are you doing in there?" Derek calls.

"I'm baking! Duh," Stiles replies, bent over to retrieve something from a cupboard below the counter. Derek swallows and looks away from the lewd (and very tempting) presentation of Stiles's ass.

"That booty, though," Ethel injects saucily. Derek rubs at his face.

"Why?"

Stiles turns to him, flour in his hands. "Teen wolves, duh. The full moon is in three days. You may not have noticed but werewolves, particularly those of high school age, have big appetites that actually increase drastically for like the whole of this week. Also, Scott and Jackson tend to get kind of...ugh," Stiles shudders, "horny. So uh Allison and Lydia are probably flagging in energy and need some food, too." Stiles seems to be making pancakes. Or brownies? Then Derek realizes he's making both.

Ethel manages to look both disgusted and deviantly intrigued. It sort of reminds Derek of Peter. Which - where is Peter? Normally Derek can't for the life of him get Peter to leave him alone but now he realizes he hasn't seen Peter since around the time the headaches started. Does he know anything about this? Derek decides he will call Peter and alpha-enforce his presence at the meeting tonight so Derek can ask.

Ethel is still watching Stiles prepare pancakes and brownies simultaneously, with ease. Her expression now manages to be both predatory and soft. "Does he do this often?"

Derek can't answer but the rose-colored flush that rises in his cheeks answers for him. Is Derek a bad alpha? Is he not attentive enough, or providing for his pack, that an 18 year old human is doing it for him? He didn't even know that...information about Scott and Jackson. He hadn't thought about food. Well, in retrospect, Isaac complaining about being hungry so often might have been a hint but he just thought the kid was being bratty. Shit.

"He's like pack mom," Ethel coos, uncharacteristically gently. "He takes care of all of you, the way you didn't even know you needed."

Derek hadn't even thought of it that way. Stiles is - well the word he would use is denmaker. But...that's an alpha-mate position traditionally. And Stiles is certainly very much decidedly not -

"Which makes you pack dad! Aw, all strong guiding hand, alpha male. Pack papa," Ethel sing-songs. Derek swallows loudly.

"No," he growls.

"What's that?" Stiles looks up from pouring batter on the pan.

"Um." Shit, he is dumb. "The, uh, heat. Should be a bit lower when you... pour the batter." Derek steps up behind Stiles and lifts his hand to slow the trickle of batter. Then he reaches around Stiles's waist to lower the heat. There's some batter on Derek's finger and he licks it off, accidentally maintaining eye contact as he does so.

Stiles's eyes drift downwards towards Derek's finger still in his mouth. Stiles's lips part infintesimally.

"I think I'm going to blush," Ethel whispers under her breath. It's enough to break the moment. He turns away from Stiles and wipes his finger on his jeans. He doesn't want to kiss Stiles, not at all, and even if he did he doesn't want Ethel to be spectating. "No! No wait, you weren't supposed to stop! You were supposed to kiss the boy! Sweep him into your muscly arms and smooch! Passionately!" she cries. "Why did I say anything? Damn," she curses herself.

Derek frowns and makes the cut motion in front of his throat. Ethel sighs but lets it go.

For a minute.

"I was about to get some candles up in this shit. Mood lighting, some sexy music, maybe some Usher."

Derek gives her a warning look and she cackles but doesn't say more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading, comments are welcome
> 
> my friend read the first chapter and told me he hates oc's normally but then he said "at least this one isn't enoby" so being better than the worst fanfiction ever is all i can hope to be. thank
> 
> shout out to tyler and julia the only people i know who have watched teen wolf, hella


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> derek is still broody, the pack is hungry, ethel is still shameless except when she's not, and stiles isn't pack mom he just gets defensive of his own cooking

By the time the rest of the pack arrives, Stiles has made 2 towering plates of pancakes and 3 batches of brownies. He also made Derek fetch the groceries he left in the Jeep ("Heh, fetch. Good boy Derek! Good boy!" "I will rip your throat out. With my teeth.") and has 2 hot rotisserie chickens ready for the pack to savagely devour. Derek managed to call Peter who assured him of his itent to attend tonight before Derek could alpha-order him. Jackson swings through the door first, howling mockingly.

"Shut the fuck up, Jackson," Derek snaps. Isaac and Scott catcall after Jackson for getting busted by Derek. Lydia cuffs Jackson on the back of the head but still smiles indulgently at him.

Jackson and Lydia have been almost as nauseatingly sweet as Scott and Allison since Lydia saved Jackson from the kanima, but they're more settled now. Jackson also seems to fit into the pack with ease, despite his prickliness. Derek suspects Lydia trains him.

Erica slugs Derek on the shoulder on her entrance before pulling Boyd into the kitchen to join the skirmish for the food. Isaac gives him a wave before trailing after Scott. Allison nods at him - it's still a bit weird for Derek, her being here, with them, after everything. But he likes her personally well enough.

Derek can hear Stiles reprimanding them all in the kitchen. "Chicken before brownies, Jackson! Damn it Scott, you can't eat all 3 at the same time, that's gross. Lydia, please, contain your boyfriend. Isaac, let go of Scott's pancake, you have your own! Erica, quit making faces at Boyd. Eat your food don't play with it."

Derek grins to himself.

"This is so cute I may need a dentist," Ethel remarks dryly.

"Shut up, Ether," Derek says good-naturedly. Ethel gives Derek a genuine smile.

"Yeah, this is great," she concedes. "Holy flawless cheekbones, Batman," she says a moment later. Derek turns to see what she's talking about. It's Peter coming in the door and removing his coat.

Derek grimaces. "Let's not go there."

 

-

 

Unfortunately, she goes there. For the rest of the night. There is no way Ethel stems from any part of his own consciousness because he would never even think, in any recess of his mind, of the things that come out of her mouth.

"He's so creepy but so hot and I'm still so turned on," she moans, looking at Peter and Derek gags.

"Hello, Erica Reyes," she purrs seductively in Erica's oblivious face and Derek rolls his eyes - discreetly.

Every time Lydia and Jackson do anything she 'aww's so much it ceases to sound like a word to Derek.

After watching Scott, Allison, and Isaac for about 20 minutes, she says "What the hell is going on here?" which goes right over Derek's head.

And Stiles. Every time Stiles speaks she makes some kind of sexually loaded comment to Derek.

"Ooh," she giggles at one point. "I am telling you, Der-bear, you better get in there. Tap that. Up against a wall, something."

In fact, every time Stiles opens his mouth, makes a strange kind of movement with his arms, shifts, breathes, fucking blinks, she makes a comment.

"So much sexual tension I can hardly breathe!"

He can only assume she thinks she's being funny and it just agitates Derek, which in turn intensifies the atmosphere until the tension _is_ palpable but Derek doesn't think it's sexual. It makes Jackson and Erica snarkier, Boyd and Allison are sullen and withdrawn, Isaac looks poised to kill someone and his eyes flash occasionally, Lydia and Peter are bemusedly curious, and Scott and Stiles are just confused.

"Damn it, Derek! What is your freaking deal?" It's Jackson who cracks.

"What?" he retorts.

"Ever since we sat down, you've looked like you've got a log stuck in your ass. What is it?" Erica, Isaac, and Peter snicker at Jackson's colorful imagery. Ethel looks both on the verge of laughing and somewhat guilty.

"It's nothing." 

"Okay that's bullshit, definitely," Stiles intones. "You look like you've been listening to a car crash in slow motion." Not too far off, Derek thinks.

"Derek, is something wrong?" Scott now interjects, all concerned and imploring and when the hell did this turn into a group therapy session?

"I'm fine," he growls.

Stiles looks very prepared to fight him on this. They stare each other down intensely for a whole minute.

Derek looks away first. "Peter, there's something I wanted to discuss with you." He excuses himself from the room and heads upstairs. He is not running from Stiles, he just doesn't want to be overheard and the walls are thicker upstairs.

"Well, that was way awkward," Ethel says behind him.

"Seriously shut up," he groans.

"I haven't even said anything yet, nephew. Give me a chance," Peter appears at the top of the stairs.

"Listen, Peter. There's a situation."

"Is there really? Intriguing," Peter comments dryly. "Well it has been an entire week since the last. I've been so bored."

"You know the headaches I had?" Derek whispers. Peter nods. "I've been seeing...something."

"What does that mean?"

"I've been seeing...this girl. The imaginary friend I used to have. I'm having...hallucinations of her," Derek explains. Peter's expression is blank, like he isn't quite comprehending.

"You've been having hallucinations of someone you made up 20 years ago? Sounds like you should invest in a therapist, kiddo." He claps Derek on the shoulder and turns to go.

"No, Peter. I wanted to know if you knew anything about this," Derek says.

"'If I knew anything about this?'" Peter turns back. "You mean, did I cause your hallucinations? So you think this is magical? No, Derek, I didn't; don't discount the therapy idea." He leaves. Well, he isn't lying, Derek concludes. Or he's lying so well it just seems like he's telling the truth.

Derek scoffs at himself and decides to head back to the pack meeting. He'll just talk to Deaton tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i keep thinking the chapters will be longer than they are. in any case i've written more of this than i did for my nanowrimo.
> 
> welp thanks for reading! i hope it was good. and i hope to update more really soon. thanks to tyler and julia again for their input.


End file.
